


All Over

by swallowed_stars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bet you've never read a post-Marmora Sheith fic before, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-sexual undressing, Somewhat mutual pining but mostly Shiro's POV, Spoilers for S2, pining shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 16:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10251023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowed_stars/pseuds/swallowed_stars
Summary: Shiro brings Keith back to his own room immediately after their brush with the Blade of Marmora. Keith needs help getting out of his suit, and Shiro pines hard.





	

Shiro shoulders his way through the open door to Keith’s room, pivoting slightly to accommodate Keith, who is still partially draped over him. Keith claims that he’s found his footing since they left the Marmora base, but Shiro begs to differ. With Keith needing his support, Shiro’s felt every last stumble in his movements, shuddered at every labored hitch of breath Keith takes in.

 

They didn’t even give the others a short run-through because, frankly, it’s too heavy of a mission to describe in minute details. Keith’s too tired and weak to explain the situation to them and it isn’t Shiro’s place to disclose what they learned about Keith’s lineage. It’s a discussion for another time.

 

Shiro leads him to the bed, where he helps Keith lower himself until he’s comfortably sitting and their only remaining connection is the hand that Shiro hasn’t yet released. Keith is the one to break that contact, and Shiro understands, though he’s already mourning his touch.

 

Keith crosses his arms over himself and runs either hand down a path from his shoulders to his biceps, looking like someone trying to warm themselves on a cold night. Shiro kneels in front of him, leveling their eye contact.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks.

 

It sounds like a stupid question, because of course Keith isn’t. He’s been beaten down incessantly and he’s learned that he has blood ties with a race that’s meant to be their greatest enemy. Shiro knows how that goes, and he doesn’t want Keith to face it alone. His own Galra links have left him frayed at the seams, and he can’t bear to watch that happen to Keith. Not if he can help it. So of course, he asks how Keith is. He has to know.

 

Keith won’t look at him, but he nods slowly.

 

“Shiro, I’m—What are you still doing here?”

 

Shiro’s stung by it, but he won’t let his expression reflect that. It’s perfectly reasonable that Keith would want to be alone after everything.

 

“I can go; I just wanted to make sure you got back okay. I promise I’ll head straight to bed and I won’t mention anything to the others until you’re ready.” Shiro says, and out of pure muscle memory, he touches Keith’s shoulder with his prosthetic hand. Keith winces in response, and Shiro tries to quiet the panic that sets in his bones when he sees that he’s hurt him. He retracts his hand at once.

 

“I’m sorry.” Shiro says, and it’s almost inaudible over the disquiet of his heart pounding in his ears.

 

“Wait!” Keith speaks up when Shiro starts to turn from him. He adds: “It’s fine. That was just the spot where I got my…”

 

Shiro’s eyes widen at the realization. In their haste to get away, he’d completely forgotten that Keith had been stabbed.

 

“Keith, is it bleeding? Do we have to get you to a pod?” Shiro asks concernedly.

 

“No!” Keith bites back, though he quickly softens. He traces a lithe finger along the rift in the seam of his suit and mutters: “I just want to stay in here. It doesn’t even hurt that badly.”

 

Shiro wants to reach out and touch him, to memorize the lines of Keith’s face by strumming a hand past his cheekbone and down to his jawline. He wants to feel him, to reassure him, but he quiets such desires.

 

“You should get out of that suit and into your own clothes. That might make you feel a little better.” Shiro manages to say past the lump in his throat.

 

He ought to go, leave Keith with his thoughts and give him time to rest, but he’s rooted where he stands. He can’t tear his eyes from Keith if he wanted. Even in this state, with Keith completely disheveled and scraped up, he’s hauntingly beautiful.

 

Keith’s violet eyes flicker up to meet Shiro’s, and he stares at him vulnerably before asking: “Will you help me?”

 

Shiro sucks in a breath. He’s contemplated this scenario dozens of times: Keith baring into him with those pretty eyes and asking Shiro to help him out of his clothes. However, the context is completely altered. This is reality, where Shiro can’t pretend like he’s the person Keith deserves. Save that for the daydreams.

 

“I thought you wanted me to leave.” Shiro says, recalling Keith’s earlier statement.

 

Keith smiles and huffs a somewhat-laugh. He says: “I think you know better than that by now.”

 

Shiro tries to ignore the jolt of happiness that Keith’s words bring to him. Furthermore, he tries not to recollect the scene he watched a few hours prior wherein an idealized version of himself came to Keith because Keith had wanted it so. He isn’t sure what to make of that still, and it doesn’t feel appropriate to bring it up now.

 

When the gap of silence in the room has become nearly unbearable, Shiro says: “Okay, then I’ll help you. Whatever you need.”

 

Before Keith instructs him to do so, Shiro rummages through Keith’s nightstand and pulls out some fresh clothes for him. He then places them to the wayside on the edge of the bed and, sitting beside Keith, tells him to turn around.

 

Shiro’s fingers are trembling as he works the zipper on Keith’s dual-colored suit. He has to work up all the restraint in the world not to lean forward and press a kiss to the base of Keith’s neck when it’s bared to him.

 

Once the zipper is completely undone, Shiro reaches around either side of Keith and peels the folds of the suit away from Keith’s collarbone, which is so pronounced and jagged as Shiro’s hands fan out over it. He entertains the thought of placing his lips there, dragging his teeth in between the divots of skin and bone and peppering it with kisses. Instead, he continues freeing Keith’s chest from the suit, drifting his eyes away from Keith’s body as he does so. When Shiro feels he’s gone as low as he should, he speaks up.

 

“You should probably do the rest. I can keep my eyes closed.” He says, and Keith nods.

 

Shiro shuts his eyes and swallows down the overbearing urge to draw the shape of Keith in his mind, filling in the blanks where he left off.

 

“Okay, I’m done.” Keith announces, and when Shiro opens his eyes, Keith is in his usual getup, sans the jacket. It’s a comforting sight, as if they can go back to how things were before, but Shiro knows that isn’t an option anymore.

 

Shiro smiles at him. “You look good for someone who took a beating like that,” he says.

 

Keith awkwardly runs a hand through his own hair as he says, “Shiro, when I asked why you were still here…”

 

“Oh, that. Yeah, I can get out of here and let you get some rest.” Shiro says, feigning forgetfulness as if that hasn’t been circling in his subconscious since Keith said it.

 

“I don’t _want_ you to leave, but Shiro, why are you doing this? Why don’t you hate me?” Keith says, his voice cracking.

 

Shiro gives him an incredulous look and says: “Is there a reason for me to hate you?”

 

Keith sets his jaw before lashing out: “Of course there is! We just found out I’m Galra. I belong to the same group of people who tortured you, brainwashed you, took your arm…”

 

Shiro was expecting this. He says, “And somehow that’s your fault?”

 

Keith shakes his head and says, “No, but it shouldn’t matter. Looking at me should make you angry. You shouldn’t even want to be around me!”

 

Shiro watches the emotions redden Keith’s face and moisten his eyes. Keith is shaking and he keeps switching from looking at Shiro to glaring at the floorboards. Shiro inhales calmly.

 

“I think you know better than that by now.” He says, reiterating Keith’s own words.

 

Keith makes to yell at him again, but Shiro surprises him by tugging at the collar of Keith’s shirt, yanking down on the one side to reveal Keith’s stab wound. It’s fresh and it’s raised, but it’s no longer oozing.

 

“You and I match in more than one way now.” Shiro declares, and he gives Keith a smile that makes Keith feel lightheaded all over again.

 

“What do you mean?” Keith asks, and Shiro stretches his metal arm in front of him in response.

 

“We’re both connected to the Galra, through our anatomy, through our scars, but Keith, that doesn’t change who you are to me. It never will.” Shiro says, and before he knows what he’s doing so that he can talk himself out of it, he leans over and places a kiss to Keith’s cheek. Tufts of Keith’s dark hair tickle his face as he does it, and they’re as feather-light as he imagined they’d be. Keith turns his head instinctively when he feels Shiro’s kiss, and as Shiro attempts to draw away, Keith captures his lips in a proper kiss.

 

Keith and Shiro break apart for a split second just to catch their breath, and Shiro lets out a tiny sigh before Keith’s lips are on him again. Shiro had no idea how intoxicating Keith could feel, and now he’s not sure how he can be without him after this, though it’s selfish.

 

Keith parts from him again, placing his hands on either side of Shiro’s face and whispering: “stay with me.” Keith can’t help reliving the memory of when hologram Shiro walked away from him, and it’s like shards of glass swishing in his gut. He needs the real Shiro, _this_ Shiro, who has always accepted him. Keith doesn’t want to be left alone with himself right now.

 

Shiro nods in acceptance, against his better judgment. He has no idea what to do, where this will lead, or how this will affect his leadership position. He has no idea who is he half the time, and he’s certain Keith needs more than what he can give him. Those thoughts race in his head, and it hurts all over, but for right now, maybe it doesn’t have to.

 

He sets all that aside for Keith, as he’s like to do now and then. He just takes in the sensation of Keith holding him, Keith needing him, as he says: “Yes.”


End file.
